The Concept of Irony ?
It is difficult to comprehend, let alone judge, the life of a person who has willingly weaved Irony into his life. That is because the person always appears to be what he intends to appear as and not what he is. This he may do either for a greater good or bad or for trivial amusement of his own mind. What if such Irony that's weaved into one's life begins to consume oneself ? Such is the life dissected by Soren Kierkegaard in his Thesis and collective writing titled 'The Concept of Irony, with continual reference to Socrates'. Socrates is supposed to be consumed by his own 'Concept of Irony' or so I'm made to believe. However, it's not the dissection of Socrates's life that I look for, for it takes a Hegel or a Kierkegaard to dissect and comprehend a personality such as Socrates.
Swimming during Showers and etc.
Bangalore's deceptive Summer Showers lend themselves to the conduction of a basic pleasure of mine - swimming during showers. No amount of description can get you to visualise what you may by swimming for yourself during showers experience, however, here are the heartening highlights: The chillness causing you to stay underwater; the rain drops pricking like cold needles on your bare body that's exposed forcefully to let you stay afloat and alive; the occasional white teeth of the sky that illuminates the whole of the swimming pool for a while; the rumble - strong enough to make its way through the water and the headgear - causing you to shiver under the exhibition of nature's fury.
It doesn't take solitude and penance to visualise Nature's fury. Try pitching a tent on top of a mountain on a night, when you'd be hoping for undisturbed sleep to ward off the tire of climbing the mountain, nature sticks to it's routine in spite of the slight aberration - that is you - and fells your tent secured with your triple-scout-knot like a card-castle in front of an electric fan. Have you ever experienced pitch dark ? Where the trees that usually protect you from Sun's fury turn against you to block the light of the stars and moon, where your own torch's batteries have exhausted, where your trek-mates aren't returning your call, where you have no trail whatsoever, and even if, no light to make out such. That is pitch dark, where you'll have to touch to see, feel to visualise. Where in the midst of a harsh jungle you're let to yourself, and you can see nothing, that fear down the spine when you're clothed but naked, vulnerable to any predator lurking in your neighbourhood, that fear - is nowhere close to the fear you experience during Bungee jumping.
Yes, I do flirt with nature and her creations, do challenge her in every way possible. But that's because I know that she has her rules, I know that I'm trivial enough not to distract her attention and that when I need her, no matter who I am, she'll have a protective hand out for me.